


In a Most Delightful Way

by LateStarter58



Series: The Loki and Theresa Stories [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 18:27:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16770505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58
Summary: Theresa has had her life turned around by one night with a Norse god. But she hopes that won't be his only visit...





	In a Most Delightful Way

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of the tale of Loki and Theresa

I love the zoo in winter; especially on a Monday. There are hardly any visitors and the animals outnumber us and the keepers. It is cold, but not freezing, and grey but dry. Most of the big animals are still outside, and the little ones are indoors in the warm but we can see them through their steamed-up windows. I am here with Lily and Mary P, of course. Mary has never visited a zoo before apparently, and was surprised but interested when I suggested it. She is amazed by the variety of mammals, birds and reptiles they have here. She seems to be having a marvellous time, and Lily definitely is. My toddler’s eyes are on stalks and she squeals with delight at each new animal. She is in love with the baby aardvarks; so am I.

I discover new things about Mary all the time; she remains an enigma. I am still not entirely sure _what_ she is; a clone? A projection? She seems completely real and pretty normal, if impossibly perfect and patient. It is utterly fascinating to watch how the various creatures react to her. The prey animals are scared – I suppose she represents a predator, gives off a smell or something. I mean, she appears lovely and gentle to me and Lily, but she is the projection of an alien ‘god’; the God of Mischief at that. Our arrival sets off a cacophony of screeching in the monkey house, which makes her grin; when she does, I see Loki more clearly than ever in her face. All the predators, from the raptors through the snakes to the beautiful Bengal tigers seem intrigued. The two stunning big cats are asleep when we reach their enclosure, but as we approach they stand and stare at Mary, hair bristling and low growls penetrating the thick safety glass between us. Lily is ecstatic.

Now I am sitting on a bench in an arbour above the viewing area for the African Hunting Dogs. The skinny, spotty canines have all gathered at the edge of the moat separating them from Lily and her ‘nanny’, and are weaving back and forth, tufted tails swishing, chattering to one another. I am not sure if they are most interested in my daughter as dinner or her companion as rival, but it is a joy to watch Lily’s delight at being so near to the ‘doggies’.

We have made it to the zoo, which is a few miles out of town, thanks to my boss, Arthur. I have been at the shop for six months now, and feel very at home. Today is my day off and he suggested the visit and insisted I borrow his car so that we could get here easily. He is a lovely man, and I feel so grateful both to him, and to the author of my happiness, Loki.

I am just thinking about the latter when I notice a movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn but see only the hedge. Then I hear a low chuckle behind me.

_‘I am pleased to know you have not forgotten me, Theresa.’_

A familiar fragrance of pine forest and northern lakes assails my senses and I turn to see him standing behind me. He seems to glow in the pale light in his green and gold clothes. He not in a designer suit today, but nor is he wearing the elaborate armour we caught glimpses of when he was on Earth two years ago. He has on what looks like a woollen tunic and trousers, in shades of green. There are golden details on both garments. My eyes are drawn to his boots: dark green leather with golden buckles. I covet them instantly.

_‘You like my boots? Perhaps I will send you a pair.’_

‘That’s very generous, Loki, but you have done so much for me already.’ I look down, unable to sustain the eye-contact without blushing; I want him desperately. ‘I am very grateful.’

_‘I know, my dear. It is my pleasure to help you.’_ He sighs, sounding a little sad. _‘I cannot stay long this morning, I just wished to see how you are. Of course, I hear how things are going thanks to – what it is it you call her?’_

‘Mary Poppins.’ His eyebrow arched. ‘It’s from a children’s’ book about a magical nanny,’ I try to explain.

_‘Yes, I see. Well, as I was saying, I do know that all seems well, but it is always better to see first-hand. I hope to be able to visit you again in a few days, for a little longer. If I may, that is.’_

If he may? I’m nearly coming in my jeans just from being close to him, and he asks me _if it’s ok to come to see me????_

He smiles, apparently reading my thoughts as usual. _‘In that case, keep safe and enjoy the rest of your day, Theresa.’_ He looks over to where his avatar stands talking to my daughter. _‘Give Lily a kiss for me.’_

I nod and suddenly he is gone in a flash of green.

I spend the rest of that week on tenterhooks, watching Mary’s every move for a clue. Not that she had given me any sign he was coming on Monday, so why I think that would help I have no idea. Castle Books is moderately busy; winter weather and the up-coming festivities persuade more visitors into the welcoming warmth of our musty domain. It passes the time. I have been reading some of the books we have about Norse mythology – purely in the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake, you understand – and I have only succeeded in making myself more frustrated. Loki’s reputation for shagging anyone and anything does not reassure me. No doubt he is fucking his way around the Nine Realms; no wonder he had no time to waste on me on Monday.

Saturday night comes and still no Loki. Mary P puts Lily to bed while I allow myself my once-a-week treat of dinner alone with a glass of wine and the TV. I make sure I eat with Lil every other dinner through the week, but it is so nice to kick back, relax and not have to wipe snot and food off a chubby cheek constantly. I have cooked myself a tasty pasta dish and the crisp dry Orvieto I chose goes perfectly with it. Tess and Claudia are just descending the stairs when I hear a polite cough from the doorway.

Mary is standing there, but she is not alone. Beside her is her near-double. He is dressed as he was on Monday; Asgard-casual, I guess. He waves his hand and she is gone in a sparkle of green light, her sweet smile the last thing to disappear, Cheshire Cat-stylie. She is so kind, so caring, so child-like and playful with Lily when needed that I have pondered that this must be an aspect of Loki’s own personality. A well-hidden one, for the most part.

_I’d love to see more of that side of him_

That smile again. Not the scary-sexy one; instead it’s the one Mary shows me daily. It changes his face and he is more beautiful than I remember.

_‘Good evening Theresa. Please, finish your meal.’_

‘Would you like some? There is a little left in the pot.’

_‘That would be delightful, thank you.’_

I get up to fetch him a bowl, raising my glass in a silent question. He nods in his oddly formal way, and I bring another and the bottle back along with the food. As I sit down the surreal nature of the situation hits me. I am on the sofa _with an alien_ , sharing a dinner of spaghetti alla putanesca and Italian white wine with him, in front of _Strictly Come Dancing;_ expecting him to fuck me shortly _._ I wonder what the Avengers would think if they could see us.

I do hope they can’t, they might interrupt.

He seems to enjoy the food, complimenting me on my cooking. I am pleased and proud. Italian food is one thing I don’t seem to fail at. In fact, since he came into my life, I don’t seem to fail at much at all anymore. I am just thinking about that when I feel him edging closer to me on the sofa and become unable to concentrate on anything else. He smells glorious: that cool, icy, herby thing, but under that a sort of male, almost _animal_ scent. One whiff and I am wet and tingling.

A cool hand comes around the back of the seat and rests on my shoulder.

_‘Are you happy, Theresa?’_

Happy? ‘Yes, I suppose I am, Loki. Thanks to you.’

_‘It was my pleasure to help you. You deserved it and so did your charming little girl. She is growing fast, I see.’_

He smiles that sweet smile again. It occurs to me that I love him a little. The smile broadens and his eyes sparkle, then he becomes serious suddenly and my stomach flips. Those thin, sensual lips are on mine and the minty taste of him fills my mouth. This is not like last time, when he proudly announced how he was going to ruin me for other men and made me scream his name. This is slow, gentle – you might almost think _loving_ , if it weren’t Loki, the most infamous of the Norse horse-fuckers.

_‘I have missed you, Theresa. And you shouldn’t believe everything you read in those books of yours.’_ I look at him: his face is serious, with just the merest hint of mischief in his eyes. _‘The mortals did tend to… embroider the stories a little sometimes.’_

He kisses me again and I run my fingers through his shiny black locks. I may have mentioned before that I hate men with long hair, but Loki breaks so many of my rules, crosses so many of my red lines and none of it bothers me in the slightest. I pull on the ebony strands a little and he moans into my mouth, tightening his hold on my waist. Apart from his tongue and lips, nothing has moved much yet. I am enjoying this slow, sexy, subtle Loki.

_‘Me too, darling one.’_

‘You know, Loki, it’s really annoying how you know what I’m thinking. Can’t a girl have any secrets?’

He chuckles; that low, slightly menacing, very sexy laugh makes me tingle in all the right places. I remember how he felt inside me last time and the chuckle gets louder as his lips latch onto my neck.

_‘How do you think I know what will drive you wild, my dear? How to make you scream with pleasure and come and come until you pass out? Or would you prefer a mortal man fumbling around with no idea how to fuck you?’_

I shudder at the thought. No thanks! He continues to speak against the skin of my neck.

_‘You are too delicious, too… exceptional… to waste yourself on human males.’_

I pull away slightly and take his pale face in my hands. ‘Hang on a sec. Exceptional? Me?’

_‘Oh yes, my dear,’_ he purrs, his eyes heavy-lidded. _‘Quite special.’_

I try to get a grip on what he is saying, but his lips are closing in on my cleavage now and my higher brain is losing the ability to function. Loki is humming and making little growling noises which vibrate through me, going straight to my nether regions. Trying to regain a bit of control, I use my hand - which is back in his hair – in an attempt to pull him off me momentarily. I am no match for his strength, however. The most I can do is get his attention.

_‘What is it, sweet one?’_

‘I just wanted to ask you something, Loki.’

_‘Go ahead.’_ He pauses in his licking, kissing and nibbling and looks up at me. His eyes are dark, and I feel something squeeze my heart at the sight of them. His expression is… well, if I were describing anyone else I would call it _loving._ I watch as he does his mind-reading thing and he looks a little uncomfortable. Now it is my turn to smile, and in response he grabs me and kisses me hard and fast before I have time to say or think anything else.

This is more like the Loki of last time: self- assured, arrogant even, skilful, determined. My clothes dissolve away – or whatever it is he does – and his are gone too. His hands are everywhere, touching, pressing; squeezing hard. My body reacts, goose pimples rising and my hips buck towards him. I reach for his firm sculpted arse and dig my fingers into the solid muscle as best I can. He hisses and dives onto my tits, biting and licking before sucking a nipple into his mouth and working it with his tongue.

I can feel that magnificent cock against my thigh and I ache for it. I have thought about it a hundred times when I made myself come; dreamed of it almost as often.

_‘It will be yours soon enough, my sweet one.’_

I moan, but simultaneously I recognise that it is not just that beautiful member I want, it is all of him. He pulls me down on the sofa and suddenly I feel his tip against my sopping-wet folds. His eyes are closed, his mouth slightly open. I watch his face as he slides himself in, although it is a struggle not to close my own eyes as I am filled and stretched. But I manage and, boy is it worth it! Pleasure and happiness are writ large on that gorgeous visage, and his head rolls back as our pelvises are locked together once he is fully-seated.

‘Loki...’ I breathe, unable to think about much else. He feels fabulous, and I want him to stay right where he is and never leave.

_‘Theresa, I…’_ He swallows and seems to stop himself from continuing, opting just to kiss me gently on the lips instead. Then he begins to roll his hips and every so often withdraw to the tip and then glide smoothly back in. I whimper his name on each stroke. He grazes my g-spot every time, and his hand has come between us to massage my clit. I won’t last long, and I see he knows it.

_‘Come for me, my darling. We have only just begun.’_

I do as he asks, as if I have any choice. He continues to thrust steadily into me as I break apart around him, clutching at his arms and moaning loudly. Once I have come down, he slows, then withdraws, making me grumble.

_‘Patience, my dearest.’_ He is chuckling and turns me over, lifting me onto my hands and knees. As soon as I am settled he drives in again without hesitation. His fingers are holding me tightly by the hips and I expect to find a pattern of small bruises there tomorrow, because he has to grip tight against the power of his movements. He can go deeper in this position and I feel his crown hitting my cervix, the pain making the pleasure sweeter. Another orgasm begins to build; every nerve in my pelvis is twanging like a piano.

_‘You feel wonderful, my sweet, so responsive, so ready for me, so wet and tight and welcoming.’_

Without thinking, I let my petty jealousy loose. ‘Don’t all the women you fuck feel like this?’ I want to bite my tongue as soon as the words have escaped. Loki stops, withdraws and sits back on his haunches.

_‘You are jealous.’_

‘I am human,’ I respond. I feel awful: his face is sad, disappointed.

_‘Theresa, I am very fond of you, so I won’t lie. There are others, yes. But you are… special, exceptional, as I said.’_

I can’t help it, but I don’t believe him. I assume this is just another trick from the God of Lies. I hear him sigh, and feel his hand caressing my bottom. I tense up, half-expecting him to slap it, but instead I feel his lips on the dimple of my back as both hands smooth over my buttocks.

_‘You are wrong, Theresa, but I understand why you doubt me. But I will say it again: you are important to me, and I do care for you.’_

Before I could even think how to answer that, his tongue licks me long and slow, all the more delicious for being so unexpected.

_‘And you taste wonderful too.’_

I push back against him and he begins to fuck me with it, soon having me writhing and screaming. His fingers come around and rub my clit and I am gone, breathless and shaking. He doesn’t stop and I pass out again, just like last time, and once more I wake in his arms. His lips are on my forehead, placing soft, sweet kisses in between his murmuring of my name.

‘Loki, I’m sorry. I was…I just… You’re so…’

_‘Shhhh, my dear. I understand.’_

His hand moves slowly down and parts my thighs, and soon he is hovering over me. I open to him and he slides in once more, lifting my legs high on his shoulders. It is glorious. His face is pale and beautiful, and his eyes are on mine as he comes, jaw tightening and neck straining. In a flash we are lying in my bed, cuddling and close. I examine his face, trying to get a grip on what is happening. I am happy and sated. The villain of New York, the God of Lies is here with me, being gentle and sexy and – yes, I’m going to think it, I don’t care – _loving._ Why else has he done all this for me? He could have just taken me without offering anything in return. I would have been powerless to resist, even if I had wanted to do so.

_‘I do not take what is not offered willingly. And I would never do that to you, my sweet Theresa. And yes, I do care for you, I said so.’_

I must have fallen asleep again, but when I wake I hear his laugh. It is morning and the deep chuckling is punctuated with my daughter’s baby giggles. I get up and find them together on the floor of her room. Her cuddly toys are moving around on their own, dancing and wrestling, and Lily is enchanted. Loki has not noticed me and the pure sweet joy on his face makes him look young and innocent. Not for the first time, I wish I could have known him before whatever damaged him so much and took that innocence away.

The thought must be a loud one – it is certainly powerful for me – because his head turns.

_‘The clock cannot be turned back, my sweet. What is done cannot be undone, but I can and I will try to be more like the man my mother wanted me to be.’_

‘What happened to her?’ I whisper, guessing it is not going to be a happy story. His face crumbles a little and I regret asking.

_‘No, it is painful but I can speak of it. Frigga was my mother in every way that matters, if not by birth. And it is my fault she is dead. I cannot change what I did, but I can strive to be someone she would be proud of.’_

His eyes are full of tears, and Lily is looking at him, wide-eyed and thumb in mouth, not noticing that the toys have stopped dancing. I move over to where he is kneeling by her and wrap my arms around him; he leans his head against me and I kiss the top of his hair. I feel privileged; I believe I have seen something Loki keeps carefully hidden: the part of him he sent me as Mary. Perhaps that is why he has opened up to me.

I know I love him now.

_‘And I love you, Theresa’_


End file.
